


Hotel In NYC

by TazersKaner (msrogersstark)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:20:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4280043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msrogersstark/pseuds/TazersKaner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a room in a hotel in New York City<br/>That shares our fate and deserves our pity<br/>I don't want to remember it all<br/>The promises I made if you just hold on</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hotel In NYC

**Author's Note:**

> All the credit goes to Fall Out Boy for the idea, title and summary  
> \--  
> This is just what stemmed from Marty's retirement   
> \--  
> Un-beta'd

Steven’s been here before and the room feels no different than the last time. It’s just a generic room, in a generic building in Manhattan. But the walls hold secrets and the sheets holds whispers that right now, Steven wishes he could take back.

Dropping his bag in the entryway, Steven, silently thanking god that he’s blessed with no roommate, crosses the room in two steps and falls onto the bed. He presses his face into the comforter and inhales. It’s been washed countless times since he was last here, and it only smells of a random hotel detergent. Steven closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and remembers.

_Stammer walks around the room, adrenaline from their win thrumming through his body. He’s about to reach into the mini fridge to treat himself a bit when there’s an unexpected knock. It startles him and he lifts his head too fast, smacking into the cupboard door that he’s left open._

_“Fuck,” He groans loudly and straightens up._

_Rubbing his head, he walks to the door and throws it open, mentally cursing the man at the door. Until he sees who it is._

_“You’re a mess.” Marty says, and then leans in to kiss him._

_The pain clears from Stammer’s brain and all he can think is_ more, more, more _as lust takes its place. Marty, who never fails to be the organized and responsible one in whatever this is that they have, kicks the door closed behind him. The sounds of the door closing jars Stammer into action and he walks backwards, pulling the smaller man with him. Forgetting that he’s in a cramped New York hotel room and not his house is Florida, Stammer trips backwards when he reaches the bed and he breaks the kiss, caught in a fit of giggles. Marty looks at him as if to say_ I told you so _before Stammer rolls them over and effectively shuts him up._

_Stammer drifts in and out of sleep throughout the night, but whenever he comes too, Marty is still there, one hand draped across Steven’s chest. It’s easy to sleep like this, like he’s going to wake up every morning with Marty next to him. It’s easy to forget that in about 6 hours he’s going to be on a plane, back to Tampa Bay, while Marty drives home and lives his life. Still, for the time being, Marty is next to him, breathing softly in his ear and drawing Stammer back to sleep._

_When they wake up in the morning, it’s like last night never existed. The Marty that kissed his way into his hotel room and teased him about his clumsiness is gone and now it’s just serious Marty (who Stammer loves, but not as much as playful Marty). Marty takes a shower while Steven makes coffee and itches to join him. When Marty returns, he’s wearing Stammer’s lightning hoodie which is definitely too big for him and the pair of Ranger’s sweats he had on the night before. It’s a juxtaposition that Steven hates. They make out on the bed for a while, but it’s not as good as the night before, when Steven didn’t feel like he was dying from Marty’s silent disappointment. The alarm from his phone telling him he needs to be on the team bus in 20 minutes, startles them out of the haze and Marty rolls away, settling on the opposite side of the bed to watch Steven scramble around the room to get his stuff together. He notices the mini fridge, still full of the stuff he didn’t drink last night and he nearly reaches for it until the glare from Marty nearly burns through his back and he moves away._

_“You played a hell of a game last night,” Stammer almost doesn’t hear Marty say as he does up his duffle bag._

_“You too,” He defaults._

_“I mean it. You’re doing good things for this team,” Marty touches his shoulder and looks into his eyes, earnest as serious Marty always is._

_Steven flushes and turns from Marty’s touch so he doesn’t see or feel how much those praising words actually affect him._

_Marty kisses him as he walks out the door._

_“Wait,” Steven calls after him, “I’m going to need my hoodie back.”_

_“Next time,” is all Marty says as he walks out of the door, and out of Steven’s life for the next few months._

Stammer doesn’t want to be here again, doesn’t want the memories back. But the damn management had to book this hotel again and he has a game to play.

 

The Rangers win and suddenly the liquor in the mini fridge is looking pretty darn appealing. Steven makes it closer to getting a drink this time before Marty shows up. He’s cracking open the bottle of vodka when there’s a soft knock on the door. It’s long past midnight and Steven should have been asleep hours ago but there’s things to do, and more importantly, people to see. He opens the door and isn’t surprised when he sees Marty, looking a little bit tipsy, dressed in the same damn hoodie that he stole from Steven last time and his smug smirk.

“It was one game,” Steven grumbles and steps back to let him into the room.

“One of four.”

“The team misses you,” Steven accidentally says, not looking Marty in the eyes.

“What about you, do you miss me?”

Steven takes a drink from the bottle in response.

“Do you want to go out?” Marty asks and Steven nearly spits his vodka across the room because does Marty mean like go out, go out? Because that’s exactly what Steven wants.

“Um, for drinks?” Steven attempts to clarify.

“For starters, sure.” Marty winks.

“I should be, uh, I should be sleeping,” Steven gestures sloppily at the bed but he knows Marty doesn't believe him.

“You don’t seem to be going to bed any time soon,” Marty points at the vodka and starts walking out the door. “No one’s gonna care, you aren’t Tyler Seguin. We can break curfew for the night.”

Steven sets the bottle down a little too hard and some slops out the top but he doesn’t care, just grabs his jacket and follows Marty out the door.

 

The bar that Marty picks is pretty packed for a Wednesday night. Most of the people seem  to have come for the hockey and then stuck around for the cheap beer that’s handed out when the Rangers win. Steven pulls his hat lower as they enter the world, Marty still wearing a hoodie with 91 stitched over the heart. It’d be career suicide if anyone saw them but everyone was really too buzzed to recognize Marty. If anything, they just gave him a dirty look for rocking the wrong team’s colors.

“Wow, enemy territory,” Stammer laughs softly as they walk past yet another Rangers fan wearing red, white and blue.

They get a booth near the back, away from the crowds and Steven offers to go and get drinks. Marty nods and lets him go. He leans against the bar as he orders waits for their drinks. The beer he ordered won’t be enough to get him drunk, which is exactly why he ordered it. Being drunk around Marty is not good for either of them, especially when he’s vulnerable enough to fall under Marty’s spell.

 

The bar is starting to clear out a bit when Steven makes it back to his table. Marty’s chatting with a the guy at the table next to there’s, who’s a little too handsy for Steve’s taste. The guy takes almost no notice to Stammer’s appearance at their table. Marty however, makes a quick exit from their conversation and turns to Steven as he slides into the booth.

“Who’s your friend?” Stammer asks bitterly, taking a sip of one of the beers.

“Didn’t even get that far,” Marty responds, shooting him a look. “Don’t worry.”

They chat aimlessly for nearly an hour before Steven’s starting to feel like it’s 2 in the morning, and he has to be on the ice in like 10 hours. Marty’s slid closer as the time went on.

“So this drink, is this platonic?” Stammer asks.

“ I think it’s Budweiser?” Marty deadpans.

Steven slaps him and takes a sip of beer.

“What do you want this drink to be?” Marty continues, leaning closer.

Another sip of beer.

“Stammer?” Marty’s inches away this time.

“I want us to be something,” Steven exhales and then gets up and runs.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts?   
> \--  
> Still working on Chapter 2 :)


End file.
